


intermediately versed in your own feelings

by templeofshame



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Era (Phandom), Ambiguous Relationships, M/M, Skype, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 11:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templeofshame/pseuds/templeofshame
Summary: They’re down to ten days and Phil just wants to be excited. He wants to tweet10 days!!! or 9 soon =]and ramble at Dan on Skype and go to sleep eager for time to get on with it. He doesn’t want to be staring at Dan’s Twitter, scrolling up and down through Tweets and replies, trying to decode them in a way that doesn’t make anything in his gut sink.





	intermediately versed in your own feelings

**Author's Note:**

> thanks, sarah

They’re down to ten days and Phil just wants to be excited. He wants to tweet _10 days!!! or 9 soon =]_ and ramble at Dan on Skype and go to sleep eager for time to get on with it. He doesn’t want to be staring at Dan’s Twitter, scrolling up and down through Tweets and replies, trying to decode them in a way that doesn’t make anything in his gut sink.

But it’s not about what Phil wants. He could stop staring, stop scrolling, but it wouldn’t go away. It’s how Dan feels. Even though he bought the tickets, and he’d seemed eager enough, and it’s just ten days from now. Just because it’s in motion and fast approaching doesn’t mean it’s certain. Not if Dan’s not certain.

_i dont know what i want_. Twice in one day. It’s significant, in some way, whether or not it has anything to do with what’s in ten days. _im torn in half. but ive committed._ Dan’s committed to train tickets, but he’s also committed to a gap year. Probably lots of things.

Phil knows Dan’s been going through shit, his parents don’t get him… Phil knows it’s probably self-centered to think it would have to do with him. Dan’s gap-year limbo makes sense with the future talk. But there’s the other part, the part that’s wormed its way into Phil’s chest and he can’t push it away, because even if it doesn’t have to do with him, it has to do with him. In a way he’s not ready to touch. _what rly is the difference between ‘being in love’ and ‘loving someone’ how can you tell what you feel? And is just loving someone worth it?_

It’s the most specific Dan’s gotten on Twitter tonight, and Phil’s body doesn’t know how it should react except with a grabbag of tension. Should it be a relief, that he’s thinking about feelings beyond whatever he feels for her? Or sting that it’s not obvious, that he still could work to fix things with her. Logically, it must be about his… ex. Maybe. Phil doesn’t know for sure; he doesn’t ask about that. That conversation feels like a minefield, a whole range of vulnerabilities Phil’s not ready to present to Dan, but also ways Phil could easily say the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to judge, to assume, to be dismissive or to make it a big deal or just… It’s safer to wonder, and to see what happens, whenever Dan tells him. The wondering is just a lot more brutal when he knows these tweets are there, with no context, in the open. For everyone to speculate and comment on, and for Phil to wonder what it means that Dan hasn’t said anything just to him.

Phil doesn’t want Dan to feel empty or sad or lost. He’s had to accept that those aren’t things he can prevent all the time, but he **does not want**. Phil knows what he wants. Sometimes, he lets himself think Dan wants the same things, when it’s late and he’s watching Dan’s rosy patch and his eyelashes and the way his voice gets when he’s not just going for a cheeky laugh. Phil thinks he can tell the difference between the Dan who’s reaching for a joke or a shield and the Dan whose heart is right there. The raw, honest Dan. Dan says he’ll lie “like always,” but Phil can’t believe that. Not that Dan. Not the one who can’t be thinking about her—whatever she is to him—because he’s laser-focused on Phil. The one who wants to keep talking even when it’s 2 a.m. and there’s no one to impress. Except Phil, sure, but when it’s late enough, when they get deep enough into their world, Dan’s not _trying_.

And that Dan looks at him like he knows what he wants. Like he’s not lost at all, like he’s chosen to be exactly where he is. Worked, even. Phil wasn’t hard to win over, but he had to know the guy existed first. And Dan had known he’d wanted that. For Phil to talk to him, to be his friend, to be on the other end of the call when it could’ve been someone else. Beyond that… Phil’s second-guessing. Is Dan wondering if it should have stopped there? Maybe Phil’s feelings weren’t part of the plan.

Dan must know. Phil’s not too subtle, and he’s a solid line where Dan has starts and stops. Skype shows Phil a small version of how he looks at Dan, what Dan sees, and there’s not much hidden. But there’s a sense of plausible deniability, maybe in unspoken agreement more than in reality, and Phil doesn’t think that illusory thing could survive the question of Erin. Which may or may not have to do with the cryptic tweets that, of course, people other than Phil are replying to.

Dan is good at the coy, mysterious thing, when he wants to be. But Phil… Phil isn’t sure what the point is in pretending anymore. In trying so hard not to say what they both know. Why be subtext when it could be… text? He could ask and never have to pretend that he doesn’t care whether or not Dan has a girlfriend again.

But, minefield of vulnerabilities. Which Phil’s realizing is there whether he asks or not. Are they waiting to find out they’re dead as soon as they move? Or could the explosions work out a different way?

Maybe there’s a safe path out, but it probably wouldn’t involve talking to Dan tonight, and that sounds terrible. That sounds way worse than a few landmines. Phil’s clicking to make the call before he knows he’s decided, before he’s thought about what to say. He might be running on false bravado, but it might be what he needs to break through something even more false. 

“Dan?” Phil says when his face fills the screen. It’s a useless thing to say; of course it’s Dan, he called Dan, and he’s looking at that face. It’s always Dan. Dan’s fringe in his eyes, Dan’s shifting posture, and tonight, Dan’s weak smile. Phil aches to give it a protein shake, steroids, anything to make it stronger. Maybe now’s not a good time for landmines.

“Hey,” Dan says. For a moment after, he’s just looking, blinking, breathing slow. Phil lets the moment hang there, but he sneaks a peek at his own image in the corner, at the way his face reacts, unguarded. There’s more concern there than anything else, more than wanting answers, or reassurances, or anything else from Dan.

“Are you —” Phil stops himself. What was he going to say? “Okay”? 

Dan saves him the trouble of finding the right question. “Sorry about the Twitter vomit.” He leans his head back and groans. “I’m gonna live to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Hey,” Phil says, cautious, bringing Dan’s eyes back to him. “No sorry, no regrets. You’re thinking a lot. ‘S good to put that somewhere.” It’s true, really, beyond the comfort. Dan can spin around these things for ages in his head, and it’s usually better to let a little out.

“Yeah, well,” Dan laughs the dark, bitter kind, the kind of Dan laugh that doesn’t light up something in Phil’s chest. “Maybe not in public.” It’s not the time for Phil to agree, to imagine who else is out there, who knows enough about Dan’s life for the tweets to be more than cryptic. “I could’ve talked to you, but…” Dan trails off.

“Still an option,” Phil offers. “‘M always here.”

Dan looks at Phil, hard, and then away. “Can we just... talk like nothing’s weird? Like we’re just us?” His eyes are back to meet Phil’s by the last words. “Just us,” just Dan and Phil on a minefield, trying to stay still for a moment and take comfort.

“Do you _want_ to?” Phil tries to stop himself from putting stress on “want.” He’s not asking anything, he’s doesn’t want to touch it, but it’s still there in his mind, creeping in.

“Course,” Dan mutters, looking away again, but only for a split second.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan says, softly, firmly. “I want to.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://templeofshame.tumblr.com/post/182563135260/intermediately-versed-in-your-own-feelings-g-13k). it's quiet there.


End file.
